“Getting old is not for cowards” goes a German saying—a notion that can be found in many languages and cultures. Aging often involves forgetfulness, reduced flexibility (both mental and physical), general pain, and—most challenging—loss of control. We are currently experiencing many of these symptoms in our close family and feel helpless, for we realize we cannot turn the clock back. When time has worked its destructive efforts for seven, eight, or more decades, we are often reduced to the core emotions and characteristics that have made us who we are.
Some time ago we watched a YouTube clip about a son and his aged mother, who, clearly, suffered from dementia and the accompanying forgetfulness. She was as cheerful as could be, but when her son asked, “Do you know who I am?” she didn’t show any signs of recognition. The most touching part was when the son asked, “Do you know who Jesus is?” Her face lit up and she answered with a big “Yes! I love Jesus, and I am going to see Him.”
Back to Basics
Aging seems to slowly strip away the trimmings we have accumulated over a lifetime and often brings out what we are at our core. Our aged parents may not always be able to keep up with all the complexities of life and relationships, but after a life walked with Jesus, they usually know their Master. They can remember long Bible passages, recite most verses of well-known hymns, and are always ready to pray.
Aging can be heart-wrenching to watch at times, but it also offers us a stark reminder of what really lies at the heart of a life with Jesus. Paul reminds us of this essence—and nobody would accuse him of being a fluffy, wishy-washy, soft-spoken, conflict-averse preacher. In his chapter focusing on the essence of love, he reminds us of what really counts—and what has eternal consequences: “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor. 13:13, ESV). The paraphrase found in The Message, by Eugene Peterson, puts it more descriptively: “But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.”[*]
If everything else were stripped away—our structures, traditions, and policies—what would remain?
Watching the aging process up close is leading us to reevaluate our priorities and focus as individuals and as a church family. How often do we expend the bulk of our time and resources on the “trimmings” of our faith? Of course, it’s a good thing to plan and execute quality worship services and do all the things that keep a local congregation running. But how can we transition from a focus on the worship service on Sabbath morning or a possible prophetic timetable to a community that is practicing the ABCs of Christian life? How can we trust steadily, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly when everything else is shaking and falling away?
To be sure: There is no dichotomy between loving the Sabbath and anticipating the second coming of Jesus or marveling at the high-priestly ministry of Jesus as described in the Epistle to the Hebrews and the summary of the core described by Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:13. The focus on all these elements becomes a problem when we don’t remember the central message of the gospel and—even more challenging—when we don’t live these foundational attitudes in our personal lives and congregations.
Not Just a Matter of Time
Just as we observe the aging process in ourselves and in those we love, our church is also “aging.” We have long since transitioned from being a movement to becoming an established institution. During the past century, we have worked diligently to build strong structures and organizations, investing significant time and resources in that effort.
When we gather for a General Conference Session every five years, we devote considerable attention to refining and clarifying our policies. Certainly we also focus on mission and make plans to reach the world for Jesus. Yet, at the same time, we may be growing less connected to the needs and questions of the societies we are a part of—particularly in regions that are becoming increasingly secular. As a result, the answers we offer can sometimes seem disconnected from the questions many people in these cultures are actually asking.
If everything else were stripped away—our structures, traditions, and policies—what would remain? For us, both individually and collectively as a church, only faith, hope, and love endure. These are the essentials. Perhaps we are being called to rediscover these foundations. This means finding fresh, relevant ways to express our faith without clinging to our traditional ways of doing things. It means becoming deeply community-focused—listening carefully, serving genuinely, and embodying faith, hope, and love in ways that speak meaningfully to the world around us.
[*] From The Message, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress, represented by Tyndale House Publishers, a division of Tyndale House Ministries. All rights reserved.
